


Whisper Its Name

by deli (deliciousirony), supernatural9917



Series: The Red Carpet Chronicles [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, English Castiel, M/M, costume drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 21:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14293794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciousirony/pseuds/deli, https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural9917/pseuds/supernatural9917
Summary: English actor Castiel Novak is determined to make Balthazar Roché's masterpiece novel into a film. All-American beefcake Dean Winchester is determined to shake off typecasting and prove his acting chops. Can they get past their initial dislike of each other and do justice to the tragic romance at the heart ofWhisper Its Name?





	Whisper Its Name

**Author's Note:**

> [Deliciousirony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciousirony/pseuds/delicious-irony) offered the beautiful image of Dean and Cas in Regency costume on the Tropefest Discord server as inspiration for any author who wanted it. As a former Jane Austen fanfiction writer, I was both desperate to write it and also didn't want to have to deal with period-accurate homophobia. Deli offered the perfect solution by saying they could be in costume for some reason, and this idea was born. This really was a team effort, with lots of chatting back and forth about the plot, and hopefully there will be a sequel and some timestamps, because 5000 words just isn't enough for this adorable pair!
> 
> Deliciousirony's [Tumblr](https://delicirony.tumblr.com/)  
> My [Tumblr](https://supernatural9917fic.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thanks as always to the wonderful [athaclena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/athaclena/pseuds/athaclena) for her beta services.

'You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding.'

'Look, Dean, you're the one who said you wanted to be taken more seriously as an actor and go for something Oscar-worthy. Period drama with illicit and tragic gay affair is as close to a dead cert as you can get, and there aren't any Holocaust or heartwarming autistic man scripts going at the mo.'

Dean sighed. He knew Crowley was doing his best; not a lot of Oscar-calibre directors were willing to take a chance on a guy known for action movies and a pretty face. It didn't seem to matter that he'd started in theatre and even spent a summer at the Royal Shakespeare Company in London. All-American Beefcake was what had made him a star, and it was getting difficult to break the mould, at least in Hollywood. That's why he'd asked his European agent, a friend from his RSC days, to look for something on that side of the pond. A cash-strapped producer desperate for a big name might be willing to at least let him read for something, and Dean had already decided that in exchange, _he'd_ be willing to take a salary well below his usual seven figures. Even then it had been hard going, so the fact that Crowley had found a project at all was great news.

And yet.

OK, so Balthazar Roché's Booker Prize-nominated novel was a fantastic story, despite the cheesy way it was sometimes described as _Brokeback Mountain_ meets _Pride and Prejudice_. Even the sex scenes were well-written, damn hot if Dean was being honest, and led to his first time jerking off to something that didn't have pictures or video. It had also led to him finally coming out as bisexual to his brother Sam, when an enthusiastic discussion about the book over a few beers had accidentally veered into personal territory. Of course it had been fine, Sam was supportive as always, but then, Sam wasn't the one who made casting decisions for blockbuster movies.

Aye, there's the rub, as another indecisive coward had once said. There was no way he could come out publicly while maintaining his career trajectory; would the same be true if he played a gay character, or would it be seen as a brave acting choice by a straight actor and nobody need be any the wiser? It had worked for Heath Ledger.

'OK, send me the script. I assume I would be Hector Aframian, wealthy American landowner recently arrived in England on the lookout for a genteel wife?'

'No, you'd be playing handsome but mysterious English lord Fairfax Wentworth,' Crowley replied sarcastically. 'Of course you'll be playing the American, I've heard your terrible excuse for an English accent.'

'Yeah, yeah. Just send me the damn thing and I'll get back to you.'

'Good. I'm e-mailing it now. The password to open the PDF is Chatsworth.'

'Thanks, Crowley. I owe you one,' Dean said, hanging up before Crowley could follow that up with a sexual innuendo. The file was already in his inbox, so he opened it and started reading.

Holy crap. It was _really_ good. The screenwriter had done an amazing job of turning a 400-page novel into a filmable story. It didn't shy away from the drama or even the sex- the two most important love scenes from the book were there in full glory, with detailed stage directions, and yep, if he played Hector, he was definitely going to have to get naked. He'd done some bare ass stuff in _The Beast of Blackwater Ridge_ , and he knew his body was in great shape, so that didn't bother him. The main thing would be his co-star. It would have to be someone who could have believable angry sex in the first scene, and then tender, loving sex in the second one once the characters were in love. It was difficult to have that kind of mixed chemistry with someone; what usually happened was that one scene was believable and the other felt forced. He thought back to the action/rom-com he'd done with Bela Talbot a couple of years earlier. The angry sex had definitely worked, because he'd hated her guts, but pretty much every critic had said that their romance had taken a greater suspension of disbelief than the murderous ghost ship his archaeologist character had taken down. He didn't disagree.

Crowley would know if the part of Fairfax Wentworth had been cast yet. It would have to be somebody hot- the tall, dark and handsome character was referred to by the book's fans as gay Mr Darcy, and they would be disappointed if he didn't live up to the expectation. He sent Crowley a message asking him to call, and the phone rang within seconds.

'Hello darling. Read the script already?'

'Yeah man, it's amazing. I just wanted to check, have they cast Wentworth yet?'

'It's very hush-hush, but rumour has it they got Castiel Novak on board.'

'Whoa. That would be awesome.' Dean had admired the English actor's work for years. It would be amazing to work with such a talented guy, and he fit the description of the character to a T. 'I really need to read for this, dude. What can you get me?'

'Lucky for you, the casting team are all there in LA to fill this role, so I just need to make a call to confirm your interest and they'll be in touch.'

'Awesome. Do it. Thanks, man.'

'Don't mention it. You can pay me back by getting me on set to meet Novak. He's dreamy.'

'Yeah, sure, if I get the part I'll hook you up,' Dean laughed.

'Cheers my dear. Speak to you soon.'

Dean hung up and went back to the script, picturing himself reading with Castiel Novak. Yeah, he could see it: both of them in cravats and fall-front breeches, walking around the grounds of Wentworth Abbey, or riding their horses through the village of Gateston. He pulled up some pictures of Novak on Google, including some he'd done for a BBC period drama recently. The dude could definitely rock a cravat, that was for sure. The next step was to picture the two of them doing the love scenes. Novak totally had a resting bitch face, so it was easy to picture the angry sex, and yep, judging by the state of Dean's pants all of a sudden, the image worked. It worked so well that Dean gave up on reading the script and jerked off to a video of a shirtless Castiel Novak in the BBC show, scything grass or some shit like that. He was all tanned glistening muscle, and when he bent over to pick up his shirt, Dean came all over his own hand.

He couldn't decide if this was better or worse than getting off just on words.

**********

'You're joking, right? Tell me you're joking.'

'Look, Castiel, you're the one who said you would do whatever it took to get this film off the ground. Having Dean Winchester in the other lead role makes it guaranteed. After his read-through, the money men were practically throwing cash at me. And he was _really_ good. He's got chops.'

Castiel sighed. He knew Chuck was doing his best; trying to get a period drama with an illicit and tragic gay affair made, even when it was based on a best-selling award-winning novel, was tough if you wanted it to have enough funding for quality production values and not just an on-the-cheap indie film. Winchester had even offered to take a significant paycut to take the role, which was commendable, and he did match the character description pretty well. The author, Balthazar Roché, had apparently loved his reading, which counted for something too.

And yet.

This story meant so much to Castiel. He understood Fairfax Wentworth's struggle more than anyone knew; closeted upper class Englishman was a role Castiel had been playing his entire life. Aside from adolescent fumbles at Eton and socially acceptable but discreet drama student experimentation at RADA, he had chosen to avoid having a love life at all rather than fall prey to gossip. He was desperate to get this story out, and he planned to come out with it. This adaptation was precious, it was his baby, and now he was going to have to share it with Dean bloody Winchester, whose main qualifications seemed to be explosions and snogging busty women. What could he possibly understand of the pathos of the love that dare not speak its name? It was such a blatant play for respectability and award fodder; one moving Heath Ledger film and every straight actor and his cousin thought he could just come along and kiss a bloke to get an Oscar nod. It was insulting. But then, big name straight actors going for gold put money in the bank and bums on seats.

Aye, there's the rub, as another indecisive coward had once said. If he wanted impact, he had to follow the studio's rules. If that took a second-rate action star in the role of Castiel's number three literary crush (after Fitzwilliam Darcy and Edward Rochester, of course), so be it. At least Winchester was easy on the eyes, and Castiel consoled himself by thinking that if he was going to pretend to penetrate any ass on screen, Winchester's was certainly not the least attractive one out there. Not that he would tell anyone that of course, as it would involve admitting out loud that he had watched _The Beast of Blackwater Ridge_ , and he had a reputation to uphold.

'All right, Chuck, you're the director and I trust you. But I think we should do a chemistry read before a final decision is made. There's no point having a big name star if we can't make it work on screen together.'

'You got it, buddy. How much longer are you in LA? Do you think we could fit it in before you fly back to London?'

'I'm here another three days, so if he has time, I can do it.'

'Great, I'll get back to you as soon as I can.'

Castiel hung up and sighed again. Dean Winchester. Ugh.

**********

'Holy shit,' Chuck whispered to the casting director as he watched the sparks fly between Dean and Castiel. 'We've got our Hector.' Becky was fanning herself with the script and nodding vigorously. They had picked out a few key scenes for the two men to read for chemistry; Castiel had insisted on including their first kiss, because he wanted to make sure that Dean wouldn't be hesitant or awkward about kissing another man.

It had not been a problem.

Chuck had to yell cut twice before the actors pulled apart, and Dean's hands lingered on Castiel's jaw for a few seconds after that. Oh yeah, they had their Hector all right.

'Didn't anyone ever tell you you're not supposed to use tongue?' Castiel hissed at Dean once the film had stopped rolling. The man had the nerve to smirk- actually smirk!

'Never had any complaints before,' Dean replied smugly.

'It figures that you would be an utter Neanderthal,' Castiel scowled.

'And it figures that you'd be a stuck-up snob,' Dean spat back. Castiel didn't get a chance to respond to that, because Chuck was jogging over to them.

'I think we've got enough, guys. That was incredible. Come see the shots.' The three of them walked over to the monitors, and Chuck replayed the scenes they had run. Dean and Castiel had matching shocked expressions by the end. The chemistry had been nothing short of electric, and Castiel had to admit that Dean had done an excellent job.

'Where did you learn to hold yourself like that?' he asked the American. 'Your posture changed completely.'

Dean shrugged. 'The RSC.'

'The RSC? As in Shakespeare?' Castiel asked with obvious surprise.

'Yes, as in Shakespeare. I spent a summer there while I was still doing theatre.'

'You started in theatre?'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'Yes, Americans are capable of doing theatre, even Shakespeare.'

'And how did you go from the RSC to _Bloody St Patrick's Day_?' Castiel asked incredulously, referencing Dean's first major film.

'Turns out stuck-up snobs look at my face and don't take me seriously as an actor for some reason. I had bills to pay, so I took what I could get. Are you gonna tell me you've never taken a shitty job to keep the lights on?'

Castiel had the grace to look abashed. 'In my only attempt at working in Hollywood, I played a serial killer called Gerald Gallego in a truly terrible straight-to-DVD film called _Charlene_. I don't even put it on my resumé.'

'I was on a kids' TV show for about twenty seconds,' Dean replied with a grin.

'I did a voice on Peppa Pig.'

'I went on a Japanese game show where they hit you in the nuts with a giant mallet if you get the question wrong.'

'You were on Nutcracker?' Castiel laughed, ending the resumé contest.

'You know about Nutcracker? I thought you'd be way too classy for that kind of thing.'

'It's a guilty pleasure,' Castiel admitted. 'Usually late at night after a few too many pints. How did you do? Still able to have children?'

Dean laughed. 'I won a bag of nutritious Shrimp Chips. And the nutcracking isn't that bad. They make you play it up for the cameras, but fortunately it's just a light tap. Everything is present and correct. And functional,' he added with a wink.

'Well that's a relief,' Castiel replied just as flirtatiously. 'I'm sorry I called you a Neanderthal. I do hope we can establish a friendly rapport on set.'

'I'm sorry for calling you a stuck-up snob. Anybody who watches Nutcracker is cool with me.' They smiled at each other and shook hands.

The contracts were signed within the week, and Dean flew (thanks be to Valium) to London a month later.

 _Whisper Its Name_ was going to be made.

**********

Dean was face down on the bed, legs spread and hips slightly elevated where Castiel had them in a tight grip as he thrust his hips forward again and again. The only sounds were the slapping of skin on the skin and the tight breathy moans they were desperate to hold in, terrified of getting caught. Dean brought a hand between his legs as Castiel's pace increased and grew erratic before stopping on a final hard snap of the hips. Exhausted, he collapsed down onto Dean's back and planted soft kisses on the back of his neck.

'I love you, Hector,' he murmured as the camera zoomed in on their faces. 'My god, how I love you.'

'Cut! That's great guys. Let's take a break, back in thirty.' Chuck gave Dean and Castiel a thumbs up as they pulled their robes on and walked over to where water bottles and snacks awaited them.

Dean rubbed a cool towel over the red spot on his chest where he'd simulated the skin-on-skin noises by slapping himself with the hand that couldn't be seen on camera, then rubbed the tops of his thighs. 'Damn dude, I think I'm gonna have finger marks on my hips for the next few days,' Dean joked as he chugged the water. 'You've got a tight grip.'

'Terribly sorry. It was so sweaty under the lights that I couldn't keep my position otherwise. I hope I didn't hurt you.'

Dean waved him off. 'Nah, it's all good. I'll get my revenge when we do the angry sex,' he teased with one of his usual cheeky winks. Chuck had decided to do the tender love scene first, as the other one involved breaking furniture and knick-knacks that he didn't want to have to replace. Dean, or rather Hector, was the top in that scene, so if anyone was getting left with hand-shaped bruises for that one, it would be Castiel. He didn't think he would mind very much.

Truth be told, Dean Winchester had charmed him completely. It wasn't the first time he'd had a crush on a co-star, but something about Dean's easy-going American ways allowed him to relax and open up in a way he'd never done before. It was the most fun he'd ever had on set, which was pretty amazing for a film with such depressing themes. What a shame that Dean was straighter than the Roman road that ran near their moody Northumbrian filming location. He sighed as he and Dean were handed cups of tea by a PA.

'I wonder how many more times Chuck will have us do this scene. I'm looking forward to wearing more than a willy sock,' Castiel complained, drawing an amused snort from Dean.

'No kidding, man. Chuck is so indecisive about it. Like, just choose, deep and slow or hard and fast, and stick with it.'

'Why not both? I would prefer to start off deep and slow, and become harder and faster as I approach climax.' Dean spluttered as tea came out of his nose. 'Oh dear, are you all right?'

'Yeah, fine,' Dean croaked. 'That just sounded really dirty.'

'Of course it did, I'm talking about fucking you,' Castiel retorted, calmly sipping his tea as he watched Dean's face go bright red. 'Or rather, about Fairfax fucking Hector,' he corrected.

'Right. Fairfax and Hector, those horndogs.'

**********

Rehearsals for the other love scene had not gone well. Dean wasn't fulfilling Chuck's vision for the scene, but Chuck was finding it difficult to explain exactly what was wrong with it. He called a thirty minute break for Dean and Castiel to talk it over between themselves to see if they could figure out how to make it work. Dean's trailer was closest, so they decamped there.

'I'm just not feeling the source of Hector's anger here,' Dean explained. 'I mean, it's not like he doesn't understand where Fairfax is coming from with being afraid of their feelings. So why is he so pissed off at Fairfax about it?'

'He isn't. It's classic displacement. Hector is angry at a society that forces them to hide their feelings, their true selves, and he's angry at himself for having these feelings. He hates that part of himself, and when Fairfax reflects it back with his passion for Hector, the anger becomes overwhelming, and he takes it out on the person who made him face it.'

Dean bit the end of his pen as he contemplated Castiel's interpretation. 'Yeah, that makes sense. His internalised homophobia makes him lash out at the man he wants because that man reciprocates and validates the thing he hates most about himself.'

'Exactly!'

'Wow. So I guess you've thought about this a lot.'

Castiel blushed and looked down at his notes. 'I have. It's a subject close to my heart.' His heart was thumping; this was as close to a coming out speech as he'd ever had. Would Dean understand? How would he react?

'Oh. So, how close to your heart?' Dean asked softly.

'Very close.' Castiel didn't have the courage to look up, but he could just about see Dean's head bobbing in a nod.

'It's, uh… it's kinda close to my heart too.'

Castiel's head snapped up. Dean was blushing and biting his lip when their eyes met. 'So you're also…'

'I'm bi,' Dean mumbled. 'Straight down the middle. Uh, heh, maybe not _straight_ down the middle,' he joked. 'You?'

'One hundred percent homosexual, and ninety-five percent in the closet.'

'What's the other five percent?'

'The few people I've been intimate with, and you. Perhaps I should say ninety-four percent now.'

'Heh, I guess that brings me down to ninety-eight percent closeted. I've only told my brother before today.'

'Well, I suppose it's no wonder that we're both so good at playing these roles then.'

'Have you ever thought about coming out?'

'Yes. I was actually planning to come out when the film gets released. If I can hold my nerve. You?'

'I don't know. I was going to wait and see what the reaction to this movie is like. If I get bad backlash, then I'll probably just stay in, but if the vibes are good… we'll see. Part of me only wants to do it if I have to, like if I wanted to be with a guy. As long as I'm dating girls, it almost feels like I don't have any right to come out, you know?'

'I understand. In a way it's harder to come out as bisexual. There's a great deal of stigma even in the community. You won't get any of that from me, though,' Castiel promised, putting a hand Dean's. They smiled at each other, eyes held perhaps a beat too long, and suddenly the air was thick with tension. The spell was broken by a knock on the trailer door, a PA giving them a five minute warning. Castiel took his hand back and stood up. 'I'd better go. I hope that was helpful.'

'Very. Thanks, Cas.'

**********

Rehearsals went extremely well after that, and then it was finally time to film Fairfax and Hector's angry sex scene. Theoretically this one should have been less uncomfortable, as they were both mostly clothed; Hector confronted Fairfax in the latter's bedroom, and Hector would pull down Fairfax's breeches while only bringing down the flap of his own fall-fronts. Dean pounded his hips against Castiel, who was bent over the bed grasping the sheets, and the only lines were for them to quietly moan each other's names when they orgasmed. Easy.

Dean thrust his hips again and again, careful to maintain the short distance that etiquette required while still trying to make it look real. He counted to thirty, the timing they had agreed in rehearsal, and snapped his hips forward one final time, delivering his line.

'Cas!'

'Cut!' Chuck shouted, so no one heard Castiel say Dean instead of Hector- no one except Dean himself. 'Dean, what the hell? You're supposed to say Fairfax.'

'Shit, sorry.' How humiliating. It wasn't completely uncommon to accidentally say your co-star's name instead of their character's name during a take, but it was pretty embarrassing to do so during a love scene. Dean hastily did up the buttons of his breeches and let his long, billowing shirt fall back over it, hoping it would hide the beginnings of the erection that almost-humping Castiel had caused. 'I'm just really tired. Can we take five?'

'Actually, I'd like to make some changes to the lighting anyway,' Chuck said. 'Why don't we make it an hour, and you can get a nap and some coffee. It's been a long day.'

Dean smiled gratefully. 'Thanks, Chuck. I'll be in my trailer.' He looked over at Castiel, who had pulled his breeches back up but still had his back to Dean. 'Sorry, Cas,' he said apologetically, placing a hand on his co-star's shoulder.

'It happens,' Castiel replied, finally turning to face Dean with a shy grin. 'Ehm, would you mind if I delayed your rest by a few minutes? I had a couple of thoughts on the scene that I wanted to run by you.'

'Yeah, sure, let's go to my trailer.' Dean led the way, ushering Castiel into the comfortable but decidedly less sumptuous trailer than he was used to on big budget action films. Castiel turned down his offer of water with a mumbled thanks. 'So, what's up?'

'I… oh dear. I had hoped that I would come up with something to say by now, but I'm afraid that short walk was insufficient for me to come up with a reasonable pretext.'

'Why would you need a pretext?'

'Because what I really want is terribly inappropriate, and I'm English.'

'OK, that's enigmatic,' Dean chuckled. 'Can you pretend that you're a crass American and just spit it out?'

'Ehm, well, you see, I was thinking, and I believe that… well, to be honest, it would be lovely if…'

'Cas,' Dean interrupted sharply.

'I want you.'

Dean didn't know what he'd expected Castiel to say, but it definitely had not been that. 'You what?'

'Oh god. I'm so sorry, that was terribly inappropriate, I can't believe I said that. Please, excuse me.' He took a step towards the door, but Dean grabbed his arm before he could get too far.

'I'm game, if you really meant it,' he said quickly. 'Do you think it would help with the scene?'

'Bugger if I know,' Castiel confessed. 'I just spent the last two hours bent over a bed pretending to be penetrated by you, and all I could think about was how much I wanted it to be real.'

'Thank fuck for that,' Dean laughed, 'I thought you were just going all Method on me or something.' He grabbed Castiel by the voluminous lawn shirt and pulled him into a hungry kiss. 'Glad it's not just me.'

**********

Unusually, Chuck had decided to film the final scene of the movie at the actual end of the shoot. After being deceived by the woman society required him to marry into thinking that Hector had abandoned him, Fairfax ran himself through with his own sword; Hector had also been fooled into leaving the estate, but when he realised it, he'd ridden hard back to Wentworth Abbey, arriving just in time for Fairfax to die in his arms as they professed their eternal love for each other. When Chuck yelled cut, the set was absolutely silent for several seconds, until a single clap kicked off thunderous applause from the entire cast and crew.

Dean didn't wait to hear if they would be doing another take- he just ran to his trailer without a word. Castiel wiped his tears and followed as quickly as he could, throwing open the door without bothering to knock. Dean was face down on the bed, sobbing into a pillow, his whole body trembling.

'Dean!' Castiel cried out, running to his side. 'What's wrong?' Dean shook his head, unable to speak, so Castiel just rubbed his back soothingly until he'd managed to catch his breath.

'I'm sorry, Cas,' he said at last. 'So unprofessional.'

'Not at all,' Castiel assured him, 'it was a very emotional scene. Everyone on set was in tears, you were incredible.'

'I was barely acting,' Dean said ruefully. 'It was so horrible, holding the man I love in my arms… seeing you like that… it was one of the worst things I've ever felt. I never want to feel that again.'

Castiel laid down so his face was even with Dean's. 'Did you say…'

'Yeah, I did Cas. Fuck. I love you so much, and my last few hours with you, I had to see you like that. I just couldn't take it.'

'I love you too,' Castiel whispered. 'I hope these aren't our last few hours together.'

'You do?'

'You sound surprised.'

'Well, yeah. I mean… you're swanky. You could have anyone.'

Castiel ran his fingers gently along Dean's cheeks. 'I don't want anyone. I want you.'

**********

 

Cannes was pleasant in late May, cool enough in the evening to make the tuxedo jacket comfortable. Dean was always nervous before a premiere, but this wasn’t his usual stroll down a Hollywood red carpet. This was a freakin' arthouse film, and the buzz around their chances of the Palm d'Or felt exhilarating and terrifying. It was the definitely the _second_ most exhilarating and terrifying thing that was going to happen at this film festival.

'Ready?'

Dean finished adjusting his bowtie and took a deep breath. 'As I'll ever be.'

The door of the limousine opened, cameras flashing as the handle clicked. Dean stepped out and reached back to take Castiel's hand to help him out of the car.

Then he kept holding it.

Then he interlaced their fingers.

There was a flurry of gasps in the crowd, and the camera flashes went crazy. The official photographers dashed up to them, asking them to pose, and only then did Dean release Castiel's hand. He brought his arm around Castiel's shoulders, while Castiel put _his_ arm around Dean's waist, and they tilted the sides of their heads together in a clearly affectionate gesture. The first interviewer was obviously dying to ask about their relationship, but the official Cannes staff had to stick to questions about the film only. She did the best she could with that limitation, and asked them how they liked working together. Dean smiled at Castiel and nodded at him to answer first. They had prepared for this.

'Well, to be honest, we didn't hit it off straight away. I judged him on his action film career, and he quite rightly thought I was a snob. He also broke etiquette during our chemistry read, which I found utterly appalling.'

Dean leaned forward towards the microphone with a smirk. 'I slipped him some tongue,' he drawled, winking at the reporter.

'He did. But when we saw the playback of our scenes, we realised that we had incredible on-screen chemistry, and after that we warmed to each other.'

'Yeah we did,' Dean agreed suggestively, planting a kiss on Castiel's head.

'And then we… well, we fell in love.' Castiel looked up at Dean with an adoring smile, and Dean leaned down so their foreheads touched.

The buzz that had been going through the crowd erupted into a cacophony of shouts, squeals, cheers and shocked gasps. The interviewer was clearly delighted to get this scoop, and spoke over the noise to ask another question.

'Are there any parallels between you and your characters?'

Dean fielded this one. 'Well, we both had some issues to deal with, fears to confront, like our characters, but thankfully we live in a much more accepting time than they did.' He brought his other arm around to give Castiel a hug.

'Hopefully we'll get a much happier ending than they did too.'


End file.
